


but I just can't apologise (i hope you can understand this)

by ariadne_odair



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, and harry doesn't deal with it well, and poor coping methods, basically girl direction with feels and tears but a happy ending, but happy ending, feat football player louis, larry is domestic af, narry is real af, sharing bubble baths, so crying, there's even a big reunion scene, um life gets rough sometimes, whole ton of angst, with supportive girlfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/pseuds/ariadne_odair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry's tired.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It's clings to her like smoke, wraps around her lungs and threatens to choke her. The fatigue slides under her skin like a splinter, sharp and biting and a constant ache. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>So yeah.</i>
</p><p> <i>Harry's tired.</i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>high school au where harry breaks into a thousand pieces. louis puts her back together again. (or girl direction with a  whole load of angst but a sappy ending)</p>
            </blockquote>





	but I just can't apologise (i hope you can understand this)

**Author's Note:**

> This is without a doubt the most personal thing, I have *ever* wrote. I am really nervous about posting it, so I hope people like it?
> 
> Warning there is a whole load of angst on Harry's part, but it does get better. Also there is a happy ending, even though I understand (all too well) these things don't go away with a flick of a switch. However, I didn't think there would be anything wrong with Harry being in a hopeful and positive place at the end.

Harry's tired.

It's clings to her like smoke, wraps around her lungs and threatens to choke her. The fatigue slides under her skin like a splinter, sharp and biting and a constant ache. It's there when she wakes up, there when she's asleep. Not that she does sleep much, just tosses and turns, trying to fight the constant throb in her head.

So yeah.

Harry's tired.

 

 

 

-

 

 

It starts in Psychology class.

It's her last year, and Harry needs to pass to get into university. Although, that's a joke, because Harry doesn't know if she even wants to go to uni anymore. Doing a law degree had been fresh and exciting in January, but now it's May and. And it's not fun anymore.

"Haz, can I borrow your notes?"

Harry tugs one of her earbuds out, blinking at Niall. Niall has blue ink smudged into her pale skin, a fleck of dye on her chin. "Um. Yeah, sure."

"Thanks," Niall says cheerfully, grabbing them out of Harry's hands. Her hair is pulled up in a ratty bun. For some reason it's lilac. "Did you do the homework for sociology?"

Harry shakes her head, panic flashing in her stomach like oil in a pan. "Wait, what?"

Niall blinks sky blue eyes. "The thirty three marker on how religion can bring about social change. Parker set it for us - "

"I haven't done it," Harry breathes, chest clenching painfully. "Ni, I haven't done it, I forgot - "

"Hey, hey," Niall shushes, placing a hand on Harry's arm. "We have a free period next, you can do it then."

"It's a thirty three marker, Niall," Harry hisses, then immediately feels awful. She links her hand with Niall's, squeezing it hard. "Sorry, didn't mean that. But I can't do it in that time, I'll have to work through break."

The thing is, it should just be an essay. It's one essay. Mrs Parker adores Harry anyway, she could easily have the deadline set back. But it's like that's just the start of the problem, the first unpicked thread that leads to a whole item unravelling. If she's forgotten that, what else has she forgotten? What is she's missed a driving lesson, or has work tonight, or -

Harry swallows hard, pushes down the nagging feeling in her gut, and pastes on a smile. She doesn't need to take this out on Niall. "No, it's fine. Thanks, Ni. Totally forgot."

"Okay," Niall says slowly, but then their TA - Bressie - walks into the room, and Niall's eyes go out of focus. Niall has a whacking great crush on Bressie - Mr Breslin - which normally amuses Harry no end.

Right now, Harry is digging through her bag for her sociology textbook. She desperately flicks to the right page, scribbling down the question. Her writing is rushed, smudged, nothing like the normally neat scripture she has.

There's probably something telling in that, but Harry doesn't have time to figure it out right now.

 

 

 

-

 

They have break next, and Harry knows she's going to have to skip it. She wasn't lying to Niall; an hour's free period is not enough. Not if she wants to get the grades she needs.

It makes her head feel fuzzy, so she barely notices when her and Niall stop outside Liam and Louis' classroom. Then Louis steps out, and it's like Harry's missed a step on the stairs, that familiar swooping sensation whenever she sees her girlfriend.

Louis' honey coloured hair is messy around her shoulders, her fringe sweeping over her forehead. Her eyes are slate grey today, like the ocean on a stormy day, and she's laughing at something Liam's said.

"Hey gorgeous," she greets when she sees Harry. It makes Harry want to cry a bit, though she couldn't say why.

"Hey," Harry breathes, and all but throws herself into Louis' arms. Harry can feel Louis tense for a second in surprise, but then she's tugging Harry close, linking her arms around her waist.

"What's all this, then?" Louis murmurs, breath warm against Harry's ear. Harry tucks her face into Louis' neck, breathing in the familiar smell of Louis' skin. "Bit clingy, Styles."

"Can't come to break," Harry mumbles, pulling back. She links their hands together, swinging them loosely between each other. "Got to do my sociology essay."

"Okay," Louis shrugs, turning back to Liam. Harry makes to leave, frowning when Louis doesn't let go of her hands. "See you later, Payno. Wait for me by the sports hall, yeah?"

"You don't have to come," Harry stutters, eyes burning slightly. "Lou, it's fine."

"Nah, don't want to leave you by yourself." Louis says it so casually, like it's nothing, like she hasn't made Harry fall in love with her all over again.

Harry doesn't know her to enunciate the glowing feeling in her chest, so she just kisses Louis quickly. Louis' mouth is soft and smooth against hers, and she tastes a bit like tea. Harry just closes her eyes, letting this content feeling smooth out the chips in her bones.

"What was that for?" Louis asks, smiling, but Harry just shrugs.

They head for the library. Harry waves at the librarian. "Hey, Caroline."

Caroline smiles at her softly, glancing at their clasped hands. Her smiles brightens even more. "Hello, love. You revising?"

"Got an essay to do. Is it okay if I sit here next period?"

Caroline nods, so Louis and Harry weave their way to the back of the library. Harry loves the silence of it, the soft muted quiet. They tuck themselves into a little corner behind one of the shelves, away from any prying eyes.

"What's your essay on, babe?" Louis leans her face on her hands, grinning cheekily. She pokes Harry in the dimple. "Not like you to forgot a deadline. Besides, Parker's so far up your arse, she wouldn't mind if you never gave it in."

"Shut up," Harry giggles, batting her hand away. She can feel the ache in her head smooth out, like ripples in a lake. "I know - I don't. I guess I just forgot."

"Okey dokey," Louis nods, swinging her legs back and forth. She's wearing skinny jeans, the ankles rolled up. "Don't let me disturb you."

Harry nods gratefully. Which is stupid, because Louis has never been able to sit still, something Harry has repeatedly been victim to. She's just writing the title when a soft hand touches her thigh.

Harry looks up. "Louis."

Louis blinks innocently, like her hand isn't currently travelling up her thigh. "What?"

Harry sighs. "You are not fingering me in the library."

Louis stares at her, then grabs her face in her hands. Harry squirms, trying to get her off. "Louis, what the hell!"

Louis holds her face steady, peering into her eyes. "Are you sick? Did you eat something funny?"

Harry wriggles out her grasp. "What? No?"

"Are you sure? It was the Nandos we had last night, wasn't it? I _knew_ that chicken was off."

Harry bats her hands away, linking them around Louis' wrists like handcuffs. "No, I'm not sick. Why do you think I'm ill?"

"Harry Styles," Louis whispers, narrowing her eyes. "You are always up for quickies. Especially quickies in a public place, because you get off on someone seeing you, you little tart. Get off _a lot._ So again; it is terminal or shall I call my mother?"

"Shut up," Harry laughs, giggles slipping out of her mouth. "God, I love you so much."

"I love you too," Louis beams, "so. sex?"

"No," Harry whines, letting Louis' hands go. "No, I really have to get this done. I can't get behind."

Louis raises one perfectly arched eyebrow. "I think we both know that's not true."

"Heyy," Harry drawls, because she's normally the one with the puns. It's stupid how much she loves Louis, how being around her can make her life light up like a star. She can feel her textbook burning a hole into the table, though, so she shoves Louis away. "I really, really have to do this."

"Fine," Louis sighs, drumming her bitten nails on the table. "But you owe me like, seven orgasms."

"Fine," Harry nods, already absorbed in her work. She tenses when she feels Louis' hand on her thigh again, but Louis just leaves it there, carefully rubbing circles into the smooth skin. It's comforting, so comforting that Harry doesn't hear the bell go twenty minutes later.

"Got to go, babe." Louis nudges her shoulder, making her jump. Harry lifts her head automatically for a kiss, eyes fluttering shut at the soft press of Louis' mouth. "Don't hurt yourself, yeah?"

"I won't," Harry promises. Louis waves before leaving, and Harry watches her go.

It's feels cold when Louis' gone, so Harry's plugs in her headphones, concentrating on the lines of her page.

 

 

 

-

 

Harry finishes the essay just in time, running to the classroom. Niall laughs at her for being out of breath, but she gets a B on it, so it's worth it. Louis drives her home and they stop at the drive through. Harry buys a salad, then eats most of Louis' fries.

She's pretty certain yesterday was just a blip, until Taylor corners her as she's coming out of English.

"Harry, you're helping with the May Ball, right?" Taylor asks, right up in Harry's face. Taylor is fun but intense, and Harry flounders for a bit.

"Um, what?"

Taylor rolls perfectly made up eyes. Her mouth is a crimson slash of lipstick, her hair tied in a shimmery, blonde ponytail. "The end of year ball? You said you would help with the tickets?"

Oh. Harry remembers putting her name down for the committee. She'd been so excited for the May Ball, seeing all her friends, the decorations, all the pretty dresses. "Um, sure. I could design them - "

"Great," Taylor nods, ticking something off her clipboard. Harry's not sure she realises this is a shitty sixth form in Cheshire, not _My Sweet Sixteen._ "Can you have mock ups sent to me by Thursday? Also there's a committee meeting that day; we're going to discuss themes. I was thinking New York, New York - "

"Taylor," Harry says slowly, "Taylor, we are in _Cheshire."_

Taylor just clucks her tongue. "You have to dream big, Harry."

Harry just shrugs in compliance. She knows Taylor gets some people's backs up, but there's nothing wrong with knowing what you want. She's determined, direct, and Harry can't fault her for it, not really. "Yeah, okay. I'll get started on them."

She's got a late shift tonight at the bakery, which means she'll either have to rush them after work, or do them in her free tomorrow, There's an English test tomorrow, though, so it may have to be tonight. Then again, Taylor won't accept anything less than perfect, and blurry eyed and clumsy is not the best way to achieve that.

Harry pulls her bag further up on her back. She'll figure it out.

 

 

 

-

 

  
Work is hectic that night. They have an especially big order for the next day, some corporate do, so Harry works overtime in the end. Her feet ache in her shoes, the ends pinching her toes. She slips them off, rubbing them briskly.

"You need an early night, love," Babs teases, and Harry laughs. It sounds off, like when you cover your ears and everything's muted.

"I wish," Harry sighs, and she's only half kidding.

She trudges home, clutching her bag to her chest. It's probably not the safest idea, but it's still light, summer sun dragging pink across the sky. She has three texts from Louis, and she opens them as she stumbles back.

  
_seven orgasms styles don't forget_

  
_also hope your essay went okay_

  
and a final:

_make sure you get home safe from work xoxo_

Harry texts her quickly, sending of an affirmative. She's ready to collapse the moment she gets in the door, leaning heavily against the wood. Dusty brushes against her legs, winding her way around her calf. Harry picks her up, burrowing her face in her soft fur.

She's got Taylor's tickets to do, so she grabs an energy bar and a cup of tea. The bedroom light is harsh against her eyes as she carefully drops Dusty on the bed. Dusty doesn't even blink, just curling up into a ball and tucking her tail in. Harry is extremely jealous. Of a cat, which should give her a serious clue about her current mental capacity.

Her laptop boots up with a whir and Harry cracks her knuckles. She manages to get a basic border and pattern done, before falling asleep at the desk.

 

 

-

 

 

Her phone is ringing, the sound sharp and jolting.

Harry jerks awake with a thud, smacking her head on the desk. She curses, pressing the answer button. " 'lo?"

"Haz?" Louis' voice is like honey, sweet and deep, a splash of light before Harry realises the mess she's in. "I'm outside. I'm still picking you up, yeah?"

Shit. Fucking shit. Harry wrenches the phone from her ear, staring at the time. 8.25. Fuck. She is so late.

Harry grabs a beanie, jamming it over her head. She's still in her clothes from yesterday, which is fucking disgusting, but it's not like she can do anything about it. Her form tutor will kill her if she's late - the last thing she needs if her mum getting a phone call.

She stumbles down the stairs, all but falling into Louis' car. She feels disgusting, hot and sweaty. Her mouth tastes like something's dyed in it.

Louis glances at her from the driving seat, then does a double take. "Are you okay?"

Harry grunts, then immediately feels like a terrible girlfriend. She's not like this, she's _not_. "I woke up late."

"Okay," Louis says slowly, squeezing her thigh. The light from the window glints off her hair, making it look golden. She puts the car in gear, looking behind her before pulling out. "What time did you go to bed?"

Harry just wiggles further into the passenger seat, tipping her head back. "I don't know. Late. I had to do Taylor's invitations."

Louis' eyes flick to her face. It's a small glance, but Harry feels as though she's looking right inside of her. "What, for the May Ball? When are they due?"

"Thursday," Harry answers dully. She roots in her bag for some ibuprofen, but she doesn't have any. Perfect. "She needs them done by then."

Louis frowns. "Haz, it's Wednesday now. When did she tell you about it?"

There's a throbbing in her temples, and she can't make it go away. "Yesterday. Look, Lou, it doesn't - "

"Harry, you can't be such a pushover," Louis sighs, and it shouldn't hurt so much, but it does. Louis isn't saying it meanly, she's saying with worry and concern and fondness bleeding in to her tone, but Harry feels like she's been punched in the stomach.

"Fuck off," Harry spits, the words feeling dirty in her mouth. "I can handle it okay, I'm not a fucking baby."

Louis looks completely gobsmacked, mouth hanging open. "I didn't fucking say that! You've just got a lot on your plate at the moment, you don't need - "

"Don't tell me what I need," Harry snaps, yanking the door open. They've parked by now, so Harry slams the door behind her, storming off.

She doesn't know why Louis' words rattled her so much, ripped apart the tape she was using to keep herself together. Harry runs for the bathrooms, almost falling flat on her face.

Only there's a bunch of Year 7s in there, who all turn to peer at her when she stumbles in. Harry can feel her face flush red, so she has no choice but to turn around and back out.

In the end she just trudges to form, eyes fixed on the ground. She's already feeling the guilt pull at her skin, pinch her wrists until she's shaking. Harry's never felt like this before, lost and scared and always, always falling, and she doesn't know what to _do_.

Her heart sinks when she sees Liam, sitting at their normal desk. Her brown cow eyes at looking at Harry worriedly. Harry's not sure if she can deal with that right now.

"Hey, Harry," Liam says brightly, because Liam is nothing if not an optimist. "You alright?"

Harry just nods. Her throat feels raw, sliced with broken glass. She doesn't trust herself to speak.

"Good," Liam continues. She fidgets, tapping her foot on the leg of the desk. Harry counts six taps, before Liam opens her mouth. "Lou said you were a bit stressed. Um, are you okay?"

Harry takes one look at the worry etched into Liam's face, and all the irritation fades away. She can't snap at Liam, not when she's looking at her like she's a wounded deer. She clears her throat instead. "I'm fine, Li. Just got a lot on at the moment."

She rests her head on her arms after that, effectively ending the conservation. Liam doesn't say anything, but she does shake Harry's shoulder softly when the bell rings. "See you later, yeah?" Liam says, so earnest it _hurts,_ and Harry just nods.

Her form tutor stops her as she goes to leave. Harry takes one look at Mrs Hallow's face, and wishes she'd stayed at home.

She smiles at Harry, but it's fake. No, that's mean. Mrs Hallow is a decent teacher, and Harry's sure she does genuinely care about her students. Harry just wishes she'd stop pushing her so much.

"How are you, Harry?" she asks, then doesn't wait for an answer. "How's the university application going? Have you applied for accommodation? It's crucial you keep your grades up."

Harry just swallows, feels it scratch at her throat. "I haven't applied for accommodation yet."

Mrs Harrow lifts an eyebrow, and Harry feels about five centimetres tall. "You really need to get on it, Harry. They don't wait around for ever. If you want a room you like, you need to get in there soon."

Harry wraps her arms around herself, nodding. "Yeah. I know. I'll apply soon, I promise."

Mrs Hallow looks satisfied with that, letting her go. Harry all but runs from the room, pulling her beanie further over her hair. Her cheeks flush at how she must look; clothes rumpled for sleeping sitting up, books clutched to her chest, eyes wide like a rabbit facing a shotgun.

She collapses into her seat in English with a sigh. Her teacher, Mr Cardle, is really laid back, and probably won't mind if she has a quick nap. Sophia smiles at her kindly. Sophia is ridiculously gorgeous, in a short black dress and glossy hair. It makes Harry feels even worse, which makes her stomach twist. She doesn't like jealousy, thinks its cruel and petty. Especially to other girls.

Tom Parker snickers as soon as she's sat down. Harry doesn't hate people, but she especially dislikes Tom. He once made Liam cry by calling her fat, and he doesn't hesitate to make nasty comments when she and Louis walk past. Normally, Harry would turn around and tell him where to shove it (politely), but today she just doesn't _care._

"You okay, Harry?" Sophia whispers, raising an eyebrow as Harry kicks her bag under the seat.

"Fine," Harry nods, but her voice sounds rusty. Sophia raises an eyebrow again, then puts her hand up.

"Mr Cardle? Me and Harry just need to go to the bathroom." Harry blinks, confused, but Mr Cardle waves a hand. "Female issues," Sophia adds in a stage whisper. Mr Cardle goes bright prink and tells them to spend all the time they need.

Harry's still befuddled, so she trails after Sophia. Once they get to the bathroom, Sophia carefully pushes her against the sink. The marble is cool against her skin.

Sophia fishes a make up bag out of her satchel, tilting Harry's head up. Harry catches on. closing her eyes. Sophia's hands are small and gentle, like Louis'. "Harry, love, you normally look completely gorgeous. But today you look a bit like a Walking Dead extra."

Harry splutters a laugh, the sound ringing in her ears. Sophia just grins, pulling out a mascara brush. "And you were so nice to me that time I ripped my skirt - "

Harry shakes her head, almost getting mascara in her eye. "Wait, what time?"

Sophia finishes with the mascara, pulling out a small pot of blusher. "I ripped my skirt, so you let me borrow yours. And then your wore your PE shorts all day instead, even though they were hideous."

"Hey," Harry drawls, and Sophia laughs. She gently brushes powder over Harry's cheeks, then snaps the container shut. "And that was years ago. We were like, 14."

"Well, I remember," Sophia states, zipping up her bag. "And I couldn't let you walk around like that. So do me a favour, get some sleep and go cuddle with your girlfriend, okay?"

"Okay," Harry smiles, a real, honest smile. "Anything else?"

"Liam Payne's number?" Sophia asks cheekily, and Harry's chest loosens, just a little.

 

 

-

 

 

She seeks Louis out after lunch, because she genuinely hates arguing with her. Harry's a bit more together, like she stitched together all her edges with old string. (It doesn't stop them from being broken. It doesn't stop them from being frayed.)

Louis is sitting in the common room. She's chatting to Eleanor Calder and Harry doesn't get _jealous, she doesn't._ But Eleanor is so pretty and Louis is smiling widely, and the memory of her snapping at Louis is playing on loop in her head, again and again.

Louis looks up the second she walks over. Her eyes go wide, a sea of _blueblueblue._ "I'm sorry we argued," Harry blurts.

Eleanor glances between them, gives Louis a little wave, and leaves. Harry slides into the seat beside Louis, heart pounding against her ribcage. Louis grabs her hand, linking their fingers, and the relief is heady.

"H, it's fine," Louis frowns, little lines between her forehead. Harry wants to smooth them out with her thumb, so she does. "Well, I didn't expect you to go off on one, but."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispers, and Louis shakes her head.

"Hate it when you're off," Louis murmurs, and kisses her. Louis kisses her slowly, but with intent, like she wants to open Harry up and put her back together. It's tortuously slow, Louis' tongue swiping against hers, her teeth digging into the bottom lip until Harry's squirming.

There's a cat call from the corner, and they break apart, grinning. Louis' eyes are so close to hers she can see the flecks of gold in them, and Harry can count every one. Louis' hand is tangled in her hair, Harry's hand fisted in shirt.

"Get a room!" someone calls again - probably Ed - and Harry can't help but giggle.

"We already have one," Louis tosses back, flipping them off without looking. Her eyes are fixed on Harry's. "Do you want to go for a drive?"

Harry cocks her head to one side. "By a drive, do you mean McDonalds?"

Louis nods seriously. "I could possibly stretch to KFC."

"Wouldn't want you to put yourself out," Harry mutters, and then they both crack up. Louis slides her hand into Harry's, pulling her from the common room. Harry feels like a balloon, all the strings cut off and drifting towards the sky.

"So, what's wrong?" Louis asks later, when they're sitting in her car.

They're sharing fries, Harry feeding them to Louis and letting her lick the salt from her fingers. Louis' got dirt on her face from football, one dark streak against her cheek.

Harry elbows her. "You've got dirt on your face."

Louis snags another fry. "So's your mum." She puts the container down, rubbing her hands on her shorts. "Harry, you've been acting strange since Tuesday. Are you stressing out? You know you're going to do fine, yeah? You're really smart, H. You'll ace your exams."

"You're smart, Lou," Harry insists, but Louis just snorts.

"Not like you. Or Liam. I do okay." Louis tilts her head back, looking at Harry from the corner of her eye. "You remember that geography teacher? The one who told me I wouldn't amount to anything?"

"He was a cock," Harry sniffs, and Louis laughs, slotting their hands together. "No, he was. Didn't he get fired?"

"Good," Louis cackles, and Harry wants to tell her. She wants to tell her then, about this strange, achy feeling inside her. How everything keeps building up like a jenga tower, and if one piece moves she'll come crashing down. That she doesn't want to go to uni, or take exams, or help organise May Ball.

When she thinks about, all she wants to do is nap. And make some cupcakes. And kiss Louis.

But that's not happening anytime soon. Because life doesn't just stop and wait, so Harry will shut up, put up and not drag everyone down with her.

"It was just exam stress," Harry adds softly. Louis doesn't look overly convinced, but Harry squeezes her hand. "How did footie practise go this morning?"

"We're doing so good, we're going to smash the match next week!" Louis beams, and Harry lets herself drift off to the sound of Louis' voice.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

It's not a conscious decision to draw away from Louis after that, but somehow it happens.

Louis offers to drive her home from school on Thursday, but Harry has May Ball committee. Louis looks at her worriedly, but Harry just kisses her quick. She dashes to the meeting, biting her lip under Taylor's lifted eyebrow.

Thankfully, Harry's invitations get Taylor's approval. She feels a flare of pride, but her heart drops when Taylor turns to her. "Harry, you work in a bakery, right?"

Harry nods slowly. "Well. Yeah."

"I thought it would be nice to have some cupcakes at the ball," Taylor announces, rubbing her hands together. "I can give you hand of course, I love baking."

Harry doodles on her notepad, looking up when Taylor coughs. "A hand in what?"

"Making some cupcakes," Taylor beams at her. "I thought it would make everything more homely. Plus, I have a gorgeous red velvet recipe I want to try out."

Harry feels sick, bile rising in her throat. "Taylor, I don't know if I have time to make cupcakes. Or the money to make enough for the whole year."

"Haz, it'll be fine. We'll make them the morning before, there will be plenty of time to get ready. And most of it will come out of the school budget."

Most of it. Harry bites her nails, until she hits skin and blood fills her mouth. She not sure how much she'll have left over from her pay check. Not to mention, she's supposed to be saving for uni. Taylor must take her silence for acceptance, because she moves on to the next item on the agenda.

Taylor has an _agenda._ Harry briefly worries where she's going to uni. Somewhere prestigious. Taylor's really clever.

The meeting ends and Harry finds herself roped into decorations. This time last month she'd be ecstatic, full of ideas. But now all she can think of is how she's going to fit in her revision, her work shifts. Time with Lou. With the rest of the girls.

She walks home after the meeting. It's been raining, the pavements slick, the smell of fresh water in the air. Harry puts her hood up, ignoring the slide of droplets against her face. Her mum's in the kitchen when she enters, texting on her iPhone.

She looks up when Harry walks in. "Hey, baby. How was your day?"

 _Utter shit._ "Fine."

"Good," Anne answers, placing her phone on the counter. "How are your lessons going? I don't have any work to do tonight, we could look at uni accommodation."

Harry feels like she's going to be sick. "Mum." She pauses, the words sticking in her mouth like honey. "Mum, what if I didn't go to uni?"

Her mum looks up, eyes wide. "Well, baby, it's your choice. But what - what would you do?"

And it's like that day she was late, all over again. Running late, running from everything, one sentence dealing a killer blow. And _again,_ her mum's not being cruel, or judgemental, she's just _confused._ But Harry doesn't want any more confusion, she wants to know what _to do._

"Honey, what's brought this on?" Anne asks, moving closer to her. "You've never mentioned this before? Are you worried about your exams?"

Yes, Harry wants to scream, yes. I'm worried, I'm 18 and I don't have a fucking clue what to do now.

But she doesn't say that. She shoves it down with all the other doubts, into the empty, ugly place beneath her ribcage. Then she pastes on a smile, nods to her mum, and offers to make dinner. Her mum strokes her hair and hugs her, and Harry hides her face in her mum's jumper.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Liam's the first one to bring it up. She comes up to Harry as she's putting her books in her locker, then just kind of hovers there.

Harry looks at her. "Yes, Liam?"

"You okay?" Liam smiles, and Harry rolls her eyes. She pulls out her English notes, trying to work out how long she has until her next lesson. If she skips lunch, she could go over them a final time.

Liam leans against the lockers, her ponytail swishing back and forth. "Are you coming to lunch?"

Harry shakes her head, eyes fixed on her notes. She really wishes Liam would go away, she needs to revise. "Can't, I've got an English test this afternoon."

Liam hums, and Harry flips to her next note card. "Are you sure? I'll buy you that weird smoothie thing you like."

"It's not weird!" Harry protests, and for a moment it's okay. For a moment she could do this, could go to lunch and see the girls. She hasn't seen Louis in what feels like forever. But then her notes begin to burn in her hands, and she can see the May Ball decorations in her locker to do, and she has a work shift tonight and she - _can't._

"I can't, Liam," Harry mumbles, and she doesn't look up, because she doesn't need Liam's sad face on top of everything else.

"Louis' worried about you," Liam announces after a second. "She's got her big match, soon. The scouts are coming, the ones from the unis."

She's sound a little anger, just a hint of irritation blurring into her tone. "Harry, are you even listening?"

Liam's going on to do sound engineering, same as Niall. They're always joking about it, making silly playlists and bragging about their music skills. Everyone knows what they're doing, except for Harry, and the idea of being left behind is terrifying.

"I need to go," Harry sighs, "don't worry, Li, okay?"

Liam doesn't look convinced. Harry's not convinced herself.

 

 

 

-

 

 

Her heart falls when she sees Sophia isn't in English. Normally it wouldn't bother her, but she can already hear Tom and Max sniggering. She slides into her seat, hunching her shoulders. She hears the word _slut._ She hears the word _dyke._

The paper is awful. Harry opens the first page, looks at it, and completely blanks. She has no idea what to write, her mind wiped clean like a slate. She scribbles something indiscernible, before resting her head on the table for the rest of the hour.

Louis' waiting for her outside the classroom. She's in her footie kit, royal blue against her tan skin. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, held back by a thin band.

She looks up from her phone, sliding it into the pocket of her kit bag. "Hey. Thought I could drive you home tonight."

Harry suddenly doesn't know what to do with her hands, wrapping her sweaty palms around the straps of her satchel nervously. "Can't. I have May Ball meeting."

Louis nods, crossing her arms. "Yeah, I know. I have footie practise tonight. I meant after that."

Harry shakes her head. "I brought my bike, I have work straight after."

Louis looks defeated at that, and Harry feels guilt spread through her, thick and poisonous in her veins. She knows she's pushing Louis away, but she just feels so _crap,_ and she doesn't want to put this on her.

"Harry. Don't," Louis says finally, tone flat. "What's going on?"

Harry glances at her watch. She's already late, and she can't make it up by staying later because she has work. "Louis, I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

It sounds fake, even to her own ears. Louis' face falls, before she pulls herself together, smoothing out the lines, eyes glassy. Harry knows her, is the thing, can tell Louis is really hurt. It feels like she's in a glass cage; she can see everything happening, but none of it touches her.

It fucking sucks, and Harry fights against the prickling in her eyes. "Good luck with footie practise."

Her voice sounds wet, even to her own ears. Louis runs one hand down her cheek, leaving a trail of cool sparks. She feels even worse when Louis pulls her hand back, and Harry wants to sway into the gap between them, press their sides together and feels Louis' mouth on hers.

She doesn't. Louis eyes are hard now, hard and cool like flint. "It's the last one. Before the match with the scouts."

Harry swallows. "Well, good luck."

They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, before Harry leaves to go to the meeting. Harry leaves first, and she's not sure if she can forgive herself for it.

 

 

 

- 

 

 

 

The thing is, Harry wears her heart on her sleeve. Always has and always will, loves too deep and falls too hard, and doesn't bother hiding it. She's never seen the point. Life's too short, might as well be honest about how you really feel.

It was always going to come to a head.

Who was she kidding.

 

 

-

 

By next Friday, Harry's avoided Louis for a whole week. She got a D in her English test, barely managing to keep the tears back. She'd just scraped a C in her sociology essay, too. In all honesty, Harry had done it at three in the morning. Taylor had been messaging her cupcake ideas up until then. Harry's not sure Taylor even sleeps.

Mrs Hallow calls her out on it, which is horrible. Her face is all pinched and disappointed, eyes sad. She genuinely has Harry's best interests at heart, but right now Harry feels like her best interests are being ripped out and set on fire right in front of her.

Louis texts her, of course. And calls her. And tries to talk to her. But Harry just - _can't._ She loves Louis so much, but she doesn't want to drag her into this. Louis' so excited about the scouts coming to her footie match, about being able to live in a house without all her sisters. Harry can't take that away from her.

(That's probably bullshit. Harry's not _stupid._ Louis loves her. Loves her enough to sit her down and make her deal with this. To hold her hand as they hatch a plan. And Harry can't do that yet. Doesn't know is she _wants to,_ and she couldn't bare to see the disappointment flicker in Louis' eyes as Harry curls into a ball.)

She paints her nails on Friday, happy it's the weekend. It's not even happiness; bone deep, teeth aching relief is more like it. She paints a smooth coat of lilac, then blows it as it she waits to do the second coat.

There's a knock on her door, and her mum pokes her head around it. "You alright, love?"

There's a loaded question. Harry waggles her nails in the air. "Just doing my nails."

Her mum hesitates, and Harry can see the little crinkles around her eyes. "Just wondering when Louis was coming round next, love? She hasn't been over in a little while."

Harry fights to keep the brush steady. "Um. She's just busy. Footie and stuff."

Her mum nods, humming slightly. "Oh right. Does she have a match tonight?"

Harry keeps her head ducked. "Don't know."

Her mum clucks her tongue. "Alright then. Just looked like a big one when I drove past the school."

Harry sits up so fast she knocks the varnish bottle over. It hits the floor, permanently staining the carpet, but Harry doesn't even hear her mum's shriek. She feels panic ricochet in her stomach, shock rocking back and forth like a bullet.

"Mum, it's Louis' big game." She pushes off the bed, throwing on her jumper. Her hands are shaking, and she smears polish all over her top. She couldn't given a shit. "Mum, it's her big one, the scouts are coming. She might get a scholarship, fuck."

"Harry," her mum says anxiously, grabbing her arms. "Harry, are you okay?"

"No," Harry answers, and it's feel so good to finally say it. "No, mum, I'm not. I hate school, I have so much to do and Louis' going to dump me."

Her mum strokes her hair, eyes wide. "Haz, what's going on? Why is Louis going to dump you? I thought you were okay?"

Harry's been so fucking blind. This is Louis' big game. If she doesn't turn up, she might as well have dumped her in person. And Harry doesn't want to loose Louis. It's somehow imperative, like all the fog in her head has been cleared. _She can't loose Louis._

"Mum, will you take me to the game?" she begs. Her mum looks utterly floored, stroking her face softly. "Please, I'll explain it all, I will - I just. Please."

Her voice cracks on the last note, which is probably what prompts her mum to nod. Anne bundles her into the car, and Harry bites her nails all the way there. She hisses when an acrid taste fills her mouth - she'd forgotten she'd painted them.

Her heart swoops when she's sees the match is almost over. Louis will be in the changing rooms by the time she gets there, so Harry wrenches the door open. "Thanks mum, love you, I'll text you," she babbles, and sprints across the parking lot.

How can she have forgotten? Her feet slaps against the wet grass and Harry grabs the changing room door, pulling it open. There's this moment, this one moment, when everything stops, where the momentum slows. Harry's panting, chest heaving and she looks up and all she can see is _blueblueblue._

She's not sure who moves first, her or Louis, but they go careening into each other. Louis hits her so hard she stumbles, but Harry clings on for dear life. She crashes her lips to Louis' and it's not elegant, it's messy and the angle is crap and their teeth clash, but Harry is so relieved to have Louis' mouth on hers she starts crying.

"Haz," Louis breathes, her eyes so, so warm, and Harry's tears keep spilling. "Haz - "

And then someone else smacks into her. All the air leaves Harry's ribs in one big wheeze, and she clutches to Louis desperately. "You fucker," Niall gasps, squeezing her around the middle. "I was so worried about you!"

There's another set of arms around her, Liam's, and she's kissing Harry's forehead. Liam's not that touchy feely, and she is _kissing Harry's forehead,_ and Harry is full out bawling.

"What is going on?" Coach Teasdale calls, and they all sort collapse, like a massive, sprawling puppy pile. Niall's hair is in her mouth, Liam's elbow is in her bladder, and Louis still hasn't let go of her.

Louis pulls her up, arms still wrapped around her waist. She's looks so relieved, eyes glinting. They're probably a bit wet, too.

"I'm sorry I missed the match," Harry babbles, fisting her hands in Louis' shirt. Louis is sweaty, she smells like salt and dirt, but Harry burrows her face in Louis' neck anyway. "I am so sorry for the past few weeks, I am. It's just - everything was _too much,_ Lou."

Alarm flares in Louis' eyes, but she just cuddles Harry closer. "It's okay, babe. It's okay."

The words sink into Harry's skin like melted gold. She's so fucking _relieved._ Louis kisses her temple. "Okay, I have to do a captain's speech, but then we can talk, yeah?"

Harry nods, sniffling a little. Louis gently leads to her to the bench, standing up and clapping her hands. Harry takes in the changing, smiling at the other girls sheepishly. The overhead lights bathe the changing rooms in a soft glow, tracks of mud and grass all over the floor.

"I missed you," Niall mumbles, snuggling up to her. She has mud on her face, still in her sweaty kit. She rests her head on Harry's shoulder. "You just dropped off the radar, Haz. I didn't know what to do."

"I just got - stressed. " It sounds silly now, juvenile, but Niall's eyes aren't judging. They're understanding if anything, hand twining in Harry's. Harry takes a deep breath. It feels as though her lungs are getting a new flush of air for the first time. "It was too much, Ni, school and work - and May Ball."

Harry's scared Niall will laugh, but Niall just cuddles her so more. Harry loves Niall a lot. Louis is making her end of match speech. She looks really hot. Harry hasn't felt this attracted to Louis in forever. She's been too tired, too scared of breaking apart under Louis' hands.

Liam's staring at her, her hazel eyes wide. She smiles at Harry hugely when Harry stares back, giving her a big thumbs up. Harry's heart melts, smiling shyly. Sophia Smith is sitting next to her for some reason, and she winks at her, hand linked in Liam's.

"When did that happen?" Harry whispers to Niall. Niall just cackles and smacks a kiss to her shoulder.

She feels nervous when everyone files out. Liam wanders up to them, hugging Harry tightly. "Don't do that again," Liam mumbles, her voice hoarse, and Harry squeezes her back. "I was so worried about you. You weren't talking to anyone."

"Sorry," Harry whispers, scrubbing her wet eyes. She kisses Liam's cheek. "I just - I was so _tired."_

Liam's eyes are caring, a level of empathy there Harry hadn't expected to see. She squeezes Harry's hand. "Call me tomorrow, yeah? We can go get some smoothies, if you want."

"Okay." Harry loves her friends so much. She nods, watching as Liam wanders back to Sophia. Niall gives her a fierce hug too, then it's just her and Louis.

Louis scoops her up in her arms, hugging her so tightly it hurts. They stumble backward, Harry curling up into Louis' lap. Louis' stroking her hair, fingers light and soothing. She tugs through the knots, Harry pressing her face into her shoulder.

"You scared me," Louis says finally, the words echoing in the quiet room like gunshots. "I didn't know what to do, Haz. You kept pulling away."

"I was so tired," Harry cuts in. She can feel her bottom lip trembling. "Everything got so much, Lou. All my school work, my real work. Helping Taylor with the May Ball - "

"That bitch," Louis hisses, and Harry laughs, the sound wet. "Why didn't you tell me, babe?"

Harry shrugs, ducking her head. Louis carefully slides a hand under her chin, cool fingers lifting her chin up. "Babe, it's fine. I'm not angry. But I'm not going to pretend I'm not a little worried."

Harry wipes at her eyes again. Louis carefully takes her hand in hers, kissing the back of it softly. "I didn't want to bother you. You were so excited about the match and I didn't - I didn't know if I wanted to deal with it. Right now."

Louis eyes her seriously. "Harry, are you - _sad?_ Like that."

Harry takes a moment to catch on, and furrows her brow. She thinks about it, _really_ thinks about. She feels stressed, stretched thin, but now - now she's told someone, It feels like she could deal with it. Slowly.

Louis obviously takes her silence the wrong way, eyes widening. "It's fine if you are. If you feel like that, you could talk to someone - "

"I just feel tired," Harry decides, rubbing Louis' thighs with her hands. "Everything got too much, and I suddenly couldn't deal. I need to step back, I think. Look at what I want to do. I was just so tired all the _damn_ time - "

Her voice catches, and Louis kisses her softly, hands cradling her face. "I want everything to slow down. Is that stupid?"

"Baby, no," Louis coos, and her eyes are wet. "Harry, is something's upsetting you, then it matters, okay? Do you want to talk to someone about it?"

Harry shakes her head. Someone hasn't asked her what she wants for such a long time, that she almost doesn't dare ask. "I want a bubble bath." Harry knows she's speaking slowly, dragging the vowels, but Louis watches her intently. "And a good sleep. Then I want to ring Taylor and ask her to cut me some slack."

Harry closes her eyes, Louis' hands warm on her skin. "And I don't know if I want to go to uni."

Her voice quakes on the last one, but Louis just nods. She kisses Harry softly, arms wrapped around Harry's neck. "Okay, babe."

For the first time, Harry thinks it might be.

 

 

-

 

 

Harry wakes up in Louis' bed, curled around her. It's a Saturday, so no school, and she snuggles closer to Louis. It's warm in their little nest, warm and safe, and Harry never wants to leave. Harry closes her eyes, content to doze for a little.

It's just so _nice._

She wakes up a bit later to Louis pressing kisses to her face. Harry giggles, batting her away. "Louis, get off!"

She says while dragging Louis closer, so it's probably not a very strong argument. Louis beams at her, soft and ruffled from sleep. "How you feeling, love?"

Harry shrugs, pulling the covers further over them. "Bit better. Embarrassed. I don't even have a real problem, I'm just stressed - "

"Hey, " Louis frowns, stroking her face with the back of her hand. "We talked about this. If it matters to you, it's important, okay?"

Harry nods. She's not sure if she could manage a bigger movement. "Okay."

"Okay." Louis kisses her nose. "Do you want me to run you a bath? I brought you some bath bombs from Lush."

"Lou." Shit, her eyes are welling up again. "Why are you so nice to me, I've been a crap girlfriend."

Louis kisses her forehead. "Because you're my girlfriend and I love you. You're not a crap girlfriend, you've been under a lot of pressure. And you couldn't handle it. That doesn't make you a bad person."

"People handle it everyday, Lou," Harry whines. She feels so useless, so pathetic. "Why can't I?"

"Harry, stop." Louis rolls on top of her, framing her with her arms. Harry slides her hands under Louis' pyjama top, rubbing circles into the soft skin. "You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're _17,_ babe. It's not dumb to crumble a little. But you know what?"

Harry shakes her head, not trusting herself to speak. Louis beams down at her. "I know you can do this. Because I know _you._ You will ace your exams. Babs will have to retire and hire you as the next head baker." Harry giggles a little, her chest loosening. "And if you don't want to go to uni, you don't have to. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Harry beams at her. "You been reading self help leaflets?"

Louis jabs in her ribs, smirking when Harry squirms. "Shut up, I'm just trying to be supportive, I'll just dump your sorry arse next time - "

Harry crashes their lips together, kissing her soundly. Louis melts into it, blinking when she pulls back. "You really think I can do it?"

Louis fixes her with a fond look. "Harry, you are the sweetest, kindest person I know. You are also the single most determined person I know, of course you can get through this. Who set up the LGBT group? You. And who baked a three tier cake from Niall's mum's wedding, then taught a yoga class to the Year 7s the next day?"

Harry preens under Louis' affectionate gaze. "Me, I guess."

"Exactly." Louis smacks a kiss to her cheek. "It's not like it's going to go away the next day. But you'll push through it, and then the next time it gets too much, you'll know you can do it. Just don't shut me out again. It's not healthy."

Harry nods, feeling small. "I won't. I already feel much better."

"I'm going to run you a bath, yeah?" Louis kisses her quickly, before sliding out of the bed. Harry takes a long look at her legs, tanned and toned from footie. "Stop looking at my arse," Louis calls, without turning around, and Harry snorts.

The bathroom is steamy by the time Harry steps in it. The bath water is bright purple, and Harry can smell the scent of sugar and roses. She strips off easily, dropping her clothes to the floor. Louis eyes her, the slightest heat in her gaze, and Harry feels it spread through her.

She groans as she lowers herself into the bath. The water is so warm, heating her all the way to the core. Louis steps in too, their legs brushing against each other. Louis gently washes her foot, grinning as Harry laughs when she kisses it.

"Where are the girls?" Harry asks, tipping her head back. She closes her eyes. For once she doesn't feel the drag of tiredness as her eyelids close. Instead she's just peaceful, content to sit here with her girlfriend. She can hear the lap of water against the side of the bath tub.

"Mum took them out for the day. They've going to the zoo."

"Nice."

"I know right."

"Why didn't you tell me, Haz?" Louis murmurs finally. Harry flushes, but Louis just slides the bar of soap further up her leg, gently washing it. "I was so scared, Haz. I had no idea what to do."

There's real terror in her voice. Harry flushes. "Sorry."

Louis shakes her head. "Don't apologise. It's okay if things get a bit much."

"I just didn't think like that." Harry opens her eyes, reaching for Louis' hand. Their skin looks white under the water. "I was just tired, all the time. It was easier to just pull away, rather than face what was going on."

Louis isn't smiling, but she doesn't look particularly angry. "Turn around so I can wash your hair."

Harry shuffles in the bath, siting in the bracket of Louis' legs. She can feel Louis' breasts brush her back, but it's not sexual. It's just nice to be so comfortable with someone. Louis gently washes her hair, Harry pushes up into her hand like a cat.

"Rinsing," Louis murmurs, tapping her shoulder. Harry shivers as the water trickles down her back, Louis dropping a quick kiss to her ear.

They giggle as they get out. Louis wraps Harry in a fluffy pink towel, rubbing her like she's a wet puppy. "Not sure about your fringe, mate."

Harry pouts. "Shut up. You look a burrito."

Louis cracks up, tipping her head back as she tugs up her own towel. "What? That doesn't make sense!"

All in all, it's the nicest Saturday Harry's had forever, Harry slips into a pair of Louis' jogging bottoms, throwing one of her football shirts on. She doesn't bother putting on a bra. Louis turns slightly pink, which makes Harry's stomach flip happily.

They curl up on the sofa, Louis putting on the Winter Soldier. Harry mostly dozes through it, napping in Louis' lap. Louis makes them cheese toasties for lunch, and then they trade long, lazy kisses until Harry's panting.

There's no homework, and no May Ball, and no work, and no uni, just clear, pristine silence in her head.

Harry stays for tea, letting Louis' sisters braid her hair. Jay sweeps her into a massive hug, which almost makes Harry tear up again.

"Hello, love," Jay smiles, ruffling her hair. "Haven't seen your for a little while. Louis said you've been a bit off."

"Thanks, mum," Louis hisses, flicking the kettle. She passes Harry a cup, Harry curling her hands around the hot cup. "Way to make me sound like a snitch."

"Shush," Jay hushes, sitting down at the little wooden table. Louis slides into a seat beside her, hooking their ankles together. "It all getting a bit much, sweetheart?"

Before, Harry would have shrunk away at the question, but now she just nods slowly. Even that motion sets butterflies off in her stomach. "Yeah. A little bit."

"Well, you're welcome around her anytime," Jay nods, putting her cup in the sink. She kisses Harry on the forehead as she heads out. "Right, time to wrangle the twins into the bath. Louis, turn off the light when you head up."

Harry feels a little glow at Jay's words, turning to Louis. Louis just leans and kisses her, chasing the taste of tea in her mouth.

"Thanks for today," Harry breathes. "Thanks, Lou. For everything."

Louis tugs her up from her chair, grabbing her car keys off the table. "You want me to come with you when I tell your mum?"

Harry thinks about it, then shakes her head. "I think I want to do it myself."

Louis just nods, slotting their fingers together. Harry rests her head on Louis' shoulder for a moment, leaning slowly into her. Louis curves an arm around her waist, and they stay there for a little while, swaying gently in the slowly fading light.

 

 

 

-

 

 

Her mum gives her a huge hug and kiss when Harry tells her. She cries through a lot of it, which is embarrassing and gross. Her mum does make her a hot chocolate though, and promises to look at university alternatives the next morning.

"Honey, why didn't you tell me?" Anne asks, hugging her close. They're both in fluffy dressing gowns, sipping on identical pink mugs. "You don't have to do law if you don't want to. You don't even have to go to university. We can look at something else."

Harry sniffles, squeezing her mum's hand. "It wasn't that, it was just - everything. School, work. All of it. I just felt like I was drowning, Too much, too soon. And I didn't know how to tell you."

"It might not go away immediately," Anne murmurs. "You know that, right? Maybe it's just a rough patch, or maybe it'll take more time than that. Either way, I'm here for you, baby."

Harry nods, rubbing at her eyes. "Love you, mum."

Her mum kisses her head. "Love you too, baby."

 

 

 

-

 

She has to talk to Taylor at school. She knows it's for the best; she can't be so involved in the May Ball, not when it's so much pressure. At the time, it had made her feel strong, in control, the ability to make that decision.

Now her heart is pounding as she stares blankly at her locker. What if she lets Taylor down? Maybe she could squeeze it in, if she rearranged something -

"Hey, babe," Louis smiles, walking up to her. "You going to talk to Taylor today?"

Harry wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans. "Yeah, I guess. I know I have to, I just feel bad."

Louis pulls her into a quick hug, sliding her hands into the pockets of Harry's jeans. "It's okay. You talked to Ms Teasdale about this, right? About how sometimes you have to put yourself first?"

Ms Teasdale is the student counsellor. Harry has tiptoed into her office on Monday, shaking and wide eyed. Ms Teasdale has been kind, though, with bright hair and wise eyes. She had asked Harry about a whole load of things, then booked her in for a session every other week.

Her mum was right. It's not going to be fantastic right away. There's a stain, a dark, ugly stain in the middle of Harry's heart, and it's hard to shift. But it's getting lighter and lighter, and one day - _one day -_ it's going to be gone completely.

"Okay," Harry breathes, kissing Louis quickly. "Yeah, I know. See you at break, okay?"

Taylor's in the music room, pouring over seating plans. Harry stands there dumbly, leaning forward on her pigeon toes. "Hey, Taylor."

"Hey, Harry," Taylor nods, not even looking up. "Can you send me - "

"Is it okay if I step back a bit," Harry blurts, then remembers what Liam told her about being assertive. "I mean, I need to step back a bit. I can't do the cakes, the tickets and the decorations. It's too much."

Taylor blinks. "Um, okay."

"I can't manage it with school as well - " Harry continues, then freezes. "Wait, what?"

Taylor smiles at her wryly. "I guess I've been a bit pushy. I can get Jesy to do it. Or Jade, she does art, right?"

"Oh." Harry leans back on her feet, staring dumbly. "I didn't think you'd say yes."

"Harry, I'm not a complete bitch," Taylor sighs, and she suddenly doesn't look as put together as she usually does. "I pushed you too far, I know. Anyone could see you haven't been yourself lately."

Harry shuffles her feet, scuffing the toes along the carpet. "Yeah. Things got a bit hectic."

"Do you remember when I slept with Luke?" Taylor asks, eyes boring into Harry's. "And everyone called me a slut?"

"You're not a slut," Harry answers instantly, crossing her arms. "Taylor, you can sleep with whoever you want. No one has the right to call you that, okay? It's a disgusting word. And I never did anyway, or any of the girls."

Taylor bites her bottom lip. "I know, Harry, I know you didn't. But it was horrible, and everyone was whispering behind my back, and it fucking sucked." She slams her table plan down. "And that's why I'm organising May Ball. Because it's fun. Because I enjoy it. And because I don't want some stupid, mean people to stop me from doing that."

Harry hugs her. She's always been an affectionate person, and it's the only appropriate response to this golden, bubbly feeling in her chest. Taylor squeezes her back, laughing softly. She smells like vanilla, like baking.

Taylor's smiling when she pulls back, dropping her mask for a moment. "So you're going to be fine, Harry. Also, like Tomlinson would let you be anything but. Oh my god, are you crying again?"

"My eyes are sweating!" Harry protests, and Taylor just ruffles her hair. "I could maybe still do the cakes, though? Just - not everything else."

"Okay," Taylor smiles, picking up her stuff. "Are you walking to the dining hall? I could walk with you."

It's feel like a weight has been knocked off her shoulders. Harry can feel her confidence soar, chatting with Taylor as they walk down the halls. Taylor has a number of awesome recipes, and they arrange a tester session for late on.

It's different, because it's _her decision._ Harry knows she can cancel on Taylor if she has to. Actions that would have seen impossible before, no longer hold the same weight. She feels even better when she sees Ed waiting for Taylor.

"Hazza," Ed grins, pulling her into a big hug. "I haven't seen you in ages. I called you like, three times."

Shit. Harry had turned off her phone, ignoring the buzzing because it made her chest clench. She had only glanced at it when Louis' name had flashed on the screen. "It was off. Sorry."

"Idiot," Ed chides, "text me later, okay?"

"So needy," Harry teases, and Ed snorts before he wanders off. Taylor hangs back, fixing Harry with a stare.

"Remember, there's no quick fix," Taylor says seriously, patting her hand. "It'll take time, but you'll get there. Band aids don't fix bullet holes."

Harry smirks. "How's the song writing going, Taylor?"

"Fuck off," Taylor says coolly, and Harry cackles. She feels strange as she sits down at her table, a little raw, but in a good way, like it's healing.

"You okay?" Niall asks, watching her with raised eyebrows. She hooks her ankle around Harry's, effectively taking up 50% of her personal space. Niall's coping mechanism seems to be to cling to Harry like a magnet. "What's up?"

"Taylor was really nice about it," Harry murmurs, taking out her lunch box. "So was Ed. He tried to call me."

"Well, yeah," Liam interjects, furrowing her eyebrows. "We were worried about you. We didn't stop caring about you, just because you were like, struggling."

Harry really needs to stop crying. She's going to shrivel up soon. Like a prune. "I'm sorry I shut you all out."

"Shut up," Niall orders, kicking Harry under the table. She shrugs when Harry pouts at her. "We all go through shit. And if it gets sorted straight away, great. If it doesn't, then we're there for that too." Niall eyes her seriously. "Ride or die, Styles. Ride or die."

"That's beautiful, Niall, thanks," Liam sighs. She reaches across the table, squeezing Harry's hand. "Remember when I got really worried about my weight last year?"

Harry's heart breaks, just a little. Liam had been obsessed with loosing weight, after one too many nasty comments. She had gone overboard, going to the gym, hardly eating. It was only after her, Niall and Louis had intervened, that Liam had stopped.

"That took time," Liam continues, jutting her chin out. She's so fucking brave; it makes Harry's heart swell. "And I still have bad days. But I wore a crop top for the first time this spring, and I felt fucking great."

She stares at Harry seriously. "Basically, I'm here when you need me. And I'm here when you don't." Liam coughs. "And I love you."

"Leeyum," Harry whines, then throws herself into Liam's lap. She has to climb across the table to do it, accidentally kicking Niall's burger on the floor. Liam goes bright purple. It's brilliant. "Leeyum, I love you so much."

 "Get off," Liam moans, but she pats Harry on the back anyway. "You're going to be okay, yeah?"

Harry gets snot all over Liam's jumper. Louis laughs for five whole minutes over it, and Harry swears her heart doubles in size.

 

 

-

 

 

They all go May Ball shopping on Saturday. Harry manages to get the day off work; she's cut down on her shifts a bit. Babs had been completely understanding, sending her home with a kiss on her cheek and a plate of scones.

It's not like she flicked a switch and everything got better. She still gets nervous, has moments where has hands shake and stomach flips. But she calls Louis, or paints her nails, or chats to her mum. Ms Teasdale has given her a book of cognitive therapies, which is actually really interesting. She's trying to rationalise things more. If she doesn't go to a May Ball meeting, she can text Taylor and explain. If she misses a test, she can ask for an extended deadline.

For the first time, she thinks she can do this, and Harry feels it spark under her skin.

"What about this one?" Niall asks, holding it up against herself.

Louis lifts an eyebrow. "Niall, you are not wearing a stretched t-shirt with the Irish flag on."

Niall pouts at her. "Louis, you don't understand. This shows commitment."

Liam snorts. "Niall, stop winding Louis up."

Niall pouts. "Haz, you like it, don't you?"

Harry looks up from her phone, and snaps a photo. "Love it," she grins, and Niall fist bumps her. "Can I put this on instagram? What filter do you want?"

"Okay, hipster," Louis snaps, fishing her phone out of her hand. "You haven't tried a dress on yet."

"Because you guys wouldn't let me get naked," Harry huffs. They're all sharing one of the big changing rooms, but Harry's only in her knickers and bra. It's not like she's going to wear a bra on the day. It lacks _authenticity._

"Harry, we're in a public place," Liam scolds.

Harry and Louis share a look, then both burst out laughing. "That hasn't stopped us before," Louis smirks, and Liam flips them off.

"How about this one?" Liam asks, holding up a long, purple number. "I don't know whether to go long or short?"

Harry feels the material of the dress; it's soft, silky against her fingers. "This one is nice. Try it on."

Liam slips into it, letting Niall do the zip. She fluffs her hair around her shoulders, then twirls in a circle. "What do you think?"

"I like it," Harry smiles. The dress is long, with a slit up the leg, and no straps. "Are you having your hair down?"

"Think so," Liam grins, giggling as she stumbles into Niall. "I think I might ask Sophia to go with me."

"Awe," Harry coos, squeezing her hand. "You need to look amazing then! Really impress her." She blinks. "Which obviously you already have. Because you're such a good person. It's not all about looks."

"Don't cry again," Louis teases, then strips off her own clothes. Harry lets her mouth hang open a little, eyes tracing the scrap of lace Louis calls a bra. "Okay, what about this one?"

Louis' in a tight, crimson dress, that hugs all her curves. She looks absolutely amazing, smirking at Harry from the mirror. "Niall, would you fuck with me in this dress?"

Niall scoffs. "Ask Harry."

"I can't, she already fucks me. That's the point," Louis sighs, like Niall's especially obtuse. "Harry would fuck me in anything."

"True," Harry acknowledges. She smirks. "And in nothing at all."

Louis beams at her, while Niall and Liam howl in disgust. "Love you," Louis croons, and Harry blows her a kiss. "Okay, I'm going to get this one."

"I approve," Harry laughs. Louis putters over to her, kissing her soundly on the lips. "You're going to need to wear heels though. Because you're so tiny."

"Excuse me," Louis begins, ready to throw a full blown fit, but Harry just peppers her face in kisses. "Ew, get off."

Harry just smiles, giving her one final kiss. "You love it."

"This is disgusting," Liam groans, shoving her in the arm. "Harry, go try your dress on."

Harry wiggles into a pink dress, one with a floaty skirt that she can twirl in. It's short, just coming to her thigh, but it's worth it for the way Louis' eyes darken. "I need to get some heels, too. I was thinking that silver pair I saw when we walked in?"

They try on dresses and heels all afternoon. Harry can never walk in heels until the actual night, so she ends up careening into Niall. Niall just giggles and pushes her into Liam, until they get kicked out. They wander home after that, waving goodbye to Liam and Niall at the corner.

"Are you excited for May Ball?" Harry smiles, swinging their hands together. She holding her shopping bag in the other, filled with the pink dress and the silver heels. She's got the perfect pair of earrings at home. "I am. Everyone's going to look so pretty."

"You looked gorgeous today," Louis smiles, making Harry blush. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"Better." She squeezes Louis' hand. "I've been talking to Ms Teasdale. I think I might want to swap my course to music."

"That sounds great, babe," Louis says softly, nudging her with her hip. "Do you want me to make the cakes with you on Saturday?"

Harry snorts. "Lou, babe. You can't cook. You burn cereal."

"I was trying to warm it up," Louis protests, "I didn't know it would go so wrong!"

Harry giggles. "Louis, you almost burnt down the house."

"But I _didn't,"_ Louis enunciates, and Harry giggles harder. Louis tugs her into her side, kissing the side of her head. "You know you can talk to me though, right? If things get rough again."

"I know," Harry murmurs, "I know."

 And this time, she actually does.

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh. Hopefully that was okay? I could write a 100k more of this, but i am too nervous, aha. Kudos and comments are lush :) 
> 
> I have currently got a 50k girl direction fic ready for June :D also hit up [my tumblr! :)](http://ariadneodair.tumblr.com/) if you want :)
> 
> and here is the [fic link!](http://ariadneodair.tumblr.com/post/119445631247/i-just-cant-apologise-i-hope-you-can-understand/)
> 
> reblogs are awesome lol :D
> 
> oh and here is my [girl!direction blog](http://everyjawdrops.tumblr.com/)


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